


It's Real

by fearfrost1211



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas, Derek Comes Back, Disregards Season 6, Eternal Sterek Secret Santa 2016, Fluff, M/M, Post 5B, the pack's in their first semester of college
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 21:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8863180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearfrost1211/pseuds/fearfrost1211
Summary: Panting, Stiles slowly lowered the spray while the wolf watched him with eyes far too human for its lupine face. His heart was pounding, but the fear he’d felt was quickly giving way to other things...things he’s not even sure he could name. Joy? Maybe. Relief? Definitely. Because he only knew one black wolf and if he wanted Stiles dead, he’d have killed him years ago.
Or
Snapshots of life after Derek comes back to Beacon Hills





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Letsplaysomethingdifferent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letsplaysomethingdifferent/gifts).



“Doesn’t it just seem a little strange to you?” Stiles asked twirling the coffee stirrer he was incessantly chewing on and pulling at his collar. His Dad’s office was warm despite it being one of the coolest September's they’d had in several years.

The sheriff sighed and looked up from the report he’d been attempting to read. “Son, while there’s no limit to the strange that happens in this town, I’m not going to classify the quiet of the last few months as being part of it.”

“But, that’s exactly what I mean! When in the last few years has it been quiet? And now the alpha of this territory has gone off to college and nothing! Nada! If any-”

“Stiles-” The sheriff interrupts before the flailing can really pick up steam. “Scott’s only a couple hours away and as far as I’m concerned this is some hard-won peace we’re living in right now.” Sheriff Stilinski had listened to a countless number of Stiles’s rants over the years, and like so many others the face of this one was hiding its true source underneath. “Stiles, are you regretting your decision to stay?” 

“What?” Stiles’s mouth flopped open. “No! I’m not regretting anything. I’m working and taking classes just like anyone else.”

“And training with Deaton and actually sticking to an exercise program. It doesn’t take a genius to see that you’ve been preparing yourself. Now, nothing is happening and your friends left town and maybe you’re feeling a bit left behind.” 

“Pshh…” Stiles looked down at his tan polo with the sheriff’s department sigil on the left breast then lifted his eyes to meet his father’s. “It’s not regret. I don’t regret working toward the career I want and I don’t regret all the training. I just...I guess I was sure that I’d be dealing with all kinds of things the minute they left town and that would be ok because that’s what I’m here for and now…” Stiles shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m glad things are quiet. I really am, but yeah, you might be right, a little, about the left behind thing. But just a little.”

“I know, kiddo. I think everyone feels that way fresh out of the gate. Just, don’t worry so much and take each day as it comes and know that your old man’s pretty dang proud of you.”

Stiles ducked his head. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Now, shouldn’t you be at the dispatch desk getting ready for your shift?” 

***

Stiles parked the jeep off an access road and headed off into the Preserve. Jogging had absolutely been one of his least favorite things a couple months ago, but now he almost looked forward to the three runs a week he scheduled himself. 

He didn’t really keep to any of the trails popular with hikers and runners instead hitting the rough paths cut by conservation officers and other wildlife types that saw zero traffic from the general populace and as such were constantly overgrown. He honestly preferred it that way because out of all the times he’d found himself running through these trees during one supernatural crisis or another there was never a nicely cut trail to follow. 

Cool air glided over him chilling the sweat clinging to the collar of his shirt. He was almost to his halfway mark when he saw a blur off in the trees on his right side. Unease prickled up spine, but he kept moving. He hoped it was only a rabbit or squirrel scared from it’s home by his presence, but his left hand reached into his pocket for the small canister of wolfsbane pepper spray he always carried with him. Just one of the things he and Deaton had been working on recently. The extendable baton strapped horizontally across the small of his back was another.

Ahead the path curved, it led to the second half of his run and would dump him out just north of where he’d parked the jeep. He continued to scan the trees as he approached, but he hadn’t seen any more movement. Still, the hair on the back of his neck refused to lay down. He began to pick up speed just as he turned the corner and almost crashed into the giant black wolf sitting calmly in the middle of the path. 

Stiles startled backwards with a yelp, landing firmly on his ass. He scrambled back up, pepper spray at the ready, and would have given the wolf a face full if it hadn’t lowered its head and snorted at him. 

Snorted. 

Panting, Stiles slowly lowered the spray while the wolf watched him with eyes far too human for its lupine face. His heart was pounding, but the fear he’d felt was quickly giving way to other things...things he’s not even sure he could name. Joy? Maybe. Relief? Definitely. Because he only knew one black wolf and if he wanted Stiles dead, he’d have killed him years ago.

“Derek?” He asked, voice shaky with leftover adrenaline. 

The wolf lowered its head in a single nod and thumped its tail once on the ground. 

“Holy shit. What are you doing here? How are you here? When did you get back?” Stiles babbled, eyes wide, arms flailing. 

Derek stood and walked forward catching Stiles’s left wrist gently with his teeth and snarling up one side of his lip. 

“Hey!” Stiles protested then realized Derek could probably smell the wolfsbane in the spray. “Oh...sorry.” He moved his wrist and Derek released it immediately, there weren’t even teeth imprints, and Stiles stuck the canister back in his pocket. “So, uh, you wanna shift back so you can actually talk to me?” Stiles’s eyes got wide. “Oh my god! You’re not like stuck like that are?”

Derek snorted again, and Stiles would swear it already sounded like exasperation, then trotted around behind Stiles and headbutted him right in the ass, sending the human stumbling forward. 

“What the hell, man! That is private property! Just because you’re suddenly back doesn’t mean you can just start-”

Derek headbutted him again then ran ahead a few feet. He stopped and turned his head back to where Stiles was glaring at him. 

“Fine, fine. I’m coming.” Stiles started jogging again and now the blur stayed right at his side. He tried to glower, but couldn’t stop the grin spreading over his face.

***

Derek hadn’t celebrated Halloween, properly celebrated, since before the fire. It was still a couple weeks away, but Stiles seemed determined that the pack should have some kind of celebration. And just the casual way Stiles automatically included him in the pack warmed him to his toes. He was powerless to say no. 

“You keep making that face and it’s going to get stuck like that.” Derek said as he set down a large coffee and muffin at Stiles’s elbow. Honestly, Derek wondered how the human managed to survive with how often he forgot to feed himself. Stiles was hunched over his laptop at their preferred table tucked into a corner in the only decent coffee shop in town. And wasn’t that a hoot, that they had a “preferred table.” 

“Pffft,” Stiles said and looked up from his laptop screen. “If that were true then my face would have been stuck like this-” He looked up at Derek with his eyes crossed and tongue lolling out, “- since kindergarten.” 

Derek snorted a laugh, and hid his grin in his coffee cup. Stiles went back to scrunching up his forehead at the screen in front of him. He was supposed to be working on a paper for one of his online college courses, but had delved headlong into searching for a spooky group activity the whole pack would like. 

“Finding anything exciting?” Derek asked and nudged the still untouched coffee and muffin toward Stiles. 

“What do you think about a haunted hay ride? Ohhh thanks man!” Stiles finally caught sight of the offered refreshments and took a gulp of coffee then popped a chunk of muffin in his mouth. “You’re the best.” He paused to chew. “Oh hey, the fire department is setting up haunted trails out in the Preserve. That’s perfect!”

“Really, Stiles? Because you don’t get enough running around in the woods scared of stuff?”

“Oh har har...it won’t even compare. A bunch of cheesy costumes, fake blood, and strobe lights. It’s supposed to be fun, Sourwolf.” Stiles paused when Derek’s eyes widened at the nickname then popped another chuck of muffin in his mouth with a smirk. “Besides, I’m sure none of their werewolves will be half as scary as the ones I’m bringing with me.” His mouth stretched into a toothy grin. 

Derek flashed gold eyes at him and Stiles just laughed and laughed. 

***

It turned out that the haunted trails were more like a fall festival. In addition to the spooky attractions, there was a huge bonfire, hot chocolate, caramel apples, popcorn, games and a petting zoo for all the kids running around. It was definitely a family driven affair and Derek was wondering if he’d ever not feel out of place at things like this. 

He was currently waiting in the hot chocolate line Stiles had pushed him into with instructions that he wanted extra marshmallows in his before he’d headed back into the woods with Liam and Mason. Malia and Hayden were over in the caramel apple line and it appeared the Sheriff, Melissa, and Chris were contemplating s'mores near the bonfire. 

Stiles had been right about the trail not being scary. Still, Stiles had jumped and screamed when the zombies had fake ambushed them at the end and grabbed Derek’s wrist to pull him to “safety.” They’d come running out of the woods laughing and breathless, hands still connected. Honestly, they’d stayed close the whole time, walking along shoulder to shoulder, and one moving to shield the other when one of the characters would jump onto the trail in front of them - like it was a reflex they couldn’t stop. Derek always knew they were coming of course. There were so many scents along the trail it was nearly impossible to parse the actors from the guests because he didn’t know them, but he could always hear them coming. Much like he could hear Stiles’s heartbeat right now, despite him being back out on the trail and at least a couple hundred yards away. It was a familiar steady rhythm in his head. One he’d become so accustomed to over the last few weeks that he hardly even noticed how he automatically tuned into it anymore. How he could immediately pick it out in a crowd. 

He still hadn’t told Stiles why he came back. The way his wolf had paced all those long months on the road, longing for pack and territory. His territory. Apparently, it was harder to let go of Beacon Hills then he thought it would be. Then he’d gotten home and caught the scent of Stiles in the Preserve and completely surprised himself at the flair of contentment the human’s familiar scent caused in him.  
Stiles had certainly grown into himself, but the last thing Derek had expected was to strike up a friendship with him - a real friendship. Now, they saw each other almost everyday and were basically running the pack together while Scott was away. Stiles had gone house hunting with him for goodness sake then showed up to help him paint and move in after he’d settled on one. 

Derek was next in line when Stiles’s heart rate spiked. It had been doing that occasionally, presumably from being startled along the trail, but it always dropped back down. This spike was larger than the others and already lasting longer than the others had. Derek scanned the trees and listened carefully, but couldn’t find anything else amiss. 

“What can I get you, sir?” The pleasant looking woman inside the booth asked him, but for a moment he couldn’t answer. Then, Stiles’s heart slowed a fraction and Derek released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Sir?”

“Sorry, um…” He fumbled looking to his choices. “Just two regular hot chocolates, please. One with extra marshmallows.”

With drinks in hand, Derek quickly headed to the end of the trail. The three packmates made an appearance a few moments later, Liam and Mason jabbering about how cool the trail had been. Stiles was nodding along, but he looked pale and a sour note of real fear reached Derek’s nose. The other two headed off to get drinks of their own and Stiles stopped in front of Derek, but didn’t meet his eyes.

“Stiles?” Derek kept his voice soft and held the cup heaped with marshmallows out to him.

Stiles took a deep breath and took the chocolate with a hand that barely trembled. Only after he took a sip did he meet Derek’s eyes. “I’m okay.” He said, voice low. 

Derek stepped close and without thought reached up to gently squeeze the back of Stiles’s neck. Stiles shut his eyes and leaned into Derek’s warmth. 

“What happened?” He asked quietly, guiding Stiles off a little ways from the clearing and away from prying eyes. 

Once they were tucked into the tree line, Stiles let out a stuttering breath and cleared his throat. “Apparently, some of the actors were on break when we went through earlier. They were supposed to be mummies...I think, b-but when they lunged out for a moment all I could see were the wrappings and they looked like…”

Stiles tapered off with a shrug, but Derek didn’t need him to continue. There’s only one thing wrapped like a mummy that had the power to spook Stiles like this. Derek just squeezed the back of his neck again so Stiles would know he understood. “Do you want to go?”

“No. No, everyone is having a good time and so was I...so am I. I just need to get my head together.” Stiles looked down, embarrassed. “You don’t have to stay with me. I’m sure there’s other stuff you’d rather be doing.” 

“There’s really not.” Stiles’s head snapped up and Derek held his gaze. “I heard your heart while you were in there.” He admitted on a breath. “It scared me too.” 

Stiles’s eyes widened a fraction. “You...You could hear my heart. That far away?”

Derek had to duck his head before he admitted, “Even farther.”

***

Stiles: Come on, Der! PPPPllllleeeaaasssseeee

Derek: Stiles I’m not going with you to strong arm people out of the way just so you can get a new flat screen. And don’t even pretend it’s for your dad.

Stiles: But it is! Just think of how happy he’ll be watching all his games on 70 inches of gloriousness!

Derek: Why can’t Scott go with you? He’s got werewolf muscle too

Stiles: Oh Der, you don’t think I want you just for your muscles do you? I thought you knew my love was deeper than that!

Derek: You’re ridiculous. 

Stiles: Don’t even front, big guy. You know it’s true. Now, what time should I pick your muscles up? 

Stiles: Or you could just stay over since you’ll be here for Thanksgiving dinner anyway…and the sale starts early

Stiles: ...I mean unless you really don’t want to. That’s fine too

Derek: I’ll stay.

Derek: That Tv would be nice for game nights

Stiles: :-)

***

Stiles parked the jeep in Derek’s driveway and carefully pulled his frozen hands away from the wheel. The jeep’s heater was all but dead and he’d forgotten his gloves today. He was half afraid his fingers were going to fall off. 

December had come in with a vengeance and stayed that way. It was Christmas Eve and big, fat snowflakes were falling from the sky, his dispatch shift was over for the day, and he was about to bake Christmas cookies with Derek Hale. Life was good. Not to mention, the rest of the pack was coming to help and he’d finally get to spend some time with Scott and Lydia since they were both home for the holidays. 

He hopped out of the jeep as fast as his frozen body would carry him and grabbed the sack of groceries from the back seat before heading to the concrete path that led to Derek’s side door which opened directly into the kitchen. 

Stiles loved Derek’s house. It was secluded, close to the preserve, had an attached garage and plenty of room for big pack nights. His favorite thing though was the kitchen. It looked like something out of a magazine spread with huge windows overlooking the backyard, a giant island with built in breakfast bar, and so many shiny appliances Stiles wasn’t sure what they all did. Derek seemed to love it too, and volunteered it for any large cooking project that came up. 

Like baking a million cookies for the big pack Christmas dinner tomorrow. 

Stiles gave a courtesy knock and let himself in. Thankful for the warmth and to be out of the harsh winter wind. Derek padded in on barefeet a second later looking comfortable and entirely too sexy in a heather gray henley and worn out blue jeans. It really wasn’t fair.

“Hey, thought I heard you pull up.” Derek said taking the grocery bag out of Stiles’s arms. “Oh my god, Stiles. You’re freezing.” Derek exclaimed when Stiles’s cold fingers had touched Derek’s skin.

“Yeah,” Stiles huffed. “Still haven’t gotten the heater in the jeep fixed.” He took his coat off and hung it by the door then clasped his hands together in front of his chest trying to coax some life back into them.

Derek sat the grocery bag down on the island. When he turned around he had the strangest expression on his face, eyebrows all drawn together and a determined glint in his eye, that Stiles was about to ask what was wrong when Derek stepped right up in front of him, took Stiles by the wrists and shoved his frozen hands right up underneath his henley.

“Wha-- Oh my gooood.” Stiles moaned, any thought of protest dying the moment his hands came into contact with Derek’s skin. Derek was so warm. It was so good it was almost painful.

Derek gasped as Stiles stretched out his fingers trying to get in contact with as much skin as possible. He half expected Derek to change his mind and push him away, but the wolf just wrapped his arms around Stiles’s shoulders pulling him firmly against the hot wall of his chest so that Stiles’s rapidly thawing hands were trapped between them still under Derek’s shirt. And well, if Derek was offering his warmth, Stiles wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass him by so he nuzzled his forehead against the side of Derek’s neck then pressed his cold nose right into the tiny V the henley left exposed at the base of Derek’s throat.

A low growl rumbled up from deep in the wolf’s chest and Stiles froze thinking maybe he’d pushed too far, but Derek’s arms only tightened, one of his big hands sliding down possessively to the small of Stiles’s back. Emboldened, Stiles pressed his frozen lips to the place his nose had just been and Derek tensed then whispered, voice rough, “Don’t tease me, Stiles.”

Stiles licked his lips, heart suddenly hammering in his throat. “Who says I’m teasing?” 

A low whine escaped the back of Derek’s throat and then his lips were on Stiles’s.

Stiles had died and gone to perfectly stubbled heaven. There was simply no other explanation. 

Derek’s mouth was hot on his, and while it was gentler than Stiles was expecting it was still demanding. Sliding his hands from Derek’s chest around to his back, he dug into the muscle there and pulled the wolf impossibly closer. Derek rumbled against him and they opened for each other at nearly the same time. 

At the first swipe of Derek’s tongue, Stiles thought his knees would give out. Derek ran his hands down over Stiles’s ass, digging into the tops of his hamstrings and lifted him up. 

Stiles squeaked and then laughed as he wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist and pulled his hands from under Derek’s shirt to thread them into Derek’s hair. Derek smiled against his lips then turned to deposit him on the island shoving the grocery bag out of the way. 

“Don’t break the eggs!” Stiles gasped and Derek took the opportunity to trail a line of kisses down Stiles’s throat. 

When he lifted his head, Stiles kissed him again then pulled back and rested his forehead against Derek’s. His head was spinning and he had the most delicious thrill running through him, but he just needed to breathe for a minute. 

“Hey, you ok?” Derek asked, his breath warm against Stiles’s lips and cinnamon like the gum he swore he wasn’t addicted too.

“I’m better than okay.” Stiles answered honestly. Then pulled back just an inch so he could meet Derek’s eyes. The beautiful hazel eyes that were already searching his brown ones. The doorbell chimed, some of the pack arriving, and Stiles sighed. He started to release Derek, but Derek gave a tiny shake of his head and held on.

“This is real?” Derek asked, voice quiet and a little uncertain.

And Stiles’s heart broke just a tiny bit. He nodded then pressed his lips to Derek’s again, and decided to go for broke. “This is real. I want you, and for more than just today or tonight. I want to be with you, Derek.”

Derek let out a breath and crushed Stiles to his chest once more. “I want to be with you, too.” He whispered against Stiles’s throat before pulling back. They kissed one more time as the doorbell chimed again then Derek stepped back to go let their pack in.

***

The next day Stiles opened the door for his boyfriend since his arms were laden with all the baked goods the pack had produced the night before. 

As soon as Derek’s hands were empty, he murmured, “Come here,” and got his hands around Stiles’s waist and reeled him in. 

Warm lips pressed firmly against his and when Derek nipped at his bottom lip, Stiles opened easily for him. They didn’t let it go too far, just a tiny exploration, before they pulled apart only to rest their foreheads together. 

Stiles just closed his eyes and relished in it. They were both breathless and Derek’s hands couldn’t seem to help running up and down Stiles’s back. He loved the feeling of Derek against him, solid and real, and wondered how he’s expected to hold in this swelling in his chest. He felt like he might burst at the seams. 

Derek nosed at his cheek, insistent, and Stiles met his gaze. Derek leaned in to capture his lips again except he kept his eyes open, focused on Stiles’s brown ones. It was chaste, just a firm press, but it sent a jolt all the way down to Stiles’s toes. Derek pulled back, but only an inch with the most perfect little smile on his face. There’s not a brow furrow or worry line in sight. Only soft edges and crinkled eyes, and Stiles knew, just knew, that that smile was for him and him alone. 

“Merry Christmas,” Derek whispered so close that Stiles could feel the brush of that perfect stubble against his chin.

“Merry Christmas,” he returned with a smile and kiss of his own.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://fearfrost1211.tumblr.com/). Come say Hi!


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